3Suisses Blouse (similar here, here and here) | Urban Outfitters Skirt (similar here) | Tobi Sandals (sold out, similar here and here) | Forever21 Hat (similar here, here and here) | Vintage Bag (similar here)
Today’s photos show me flabbergasted by the superb Plaza de Toros de La Maestranza (TripAdvisor) in Seville and feeling quite Spanish in a bohemian outfit. I wore a printed maxi skirt, tied blouse with lace detail and grey hat that kept my winter-white face from absorbing the colour of the fences that separated the benches from the bullring. The Spanish sun was as merciless as the matadors who killed and occasionally were killed in this arena. I listened to the silence covering every inch of it. Then, slowly, as I closed my eyes, it gave way to voices invading the plaza. I heard the yelling of a bloodthirsty crowd and, later on, the lamento of a flamenco guitar. I saw the piercing gaze of Picasso, the dark posture of Goya torn between conflicting emotions.
I feel the same way. To me the Plaza de Toros is one of those places that unite both charm and horror. I find the architecture of the ring with its frivolously clashing tints of yellow, red and orange seriously enticing. I’m less taken however with the choreography that takes place inside the ring. I developed an allergy to bullfights when I was 7 years old and witnessed a game of “Running of the Bulls” in Châteaurenard during a holiday in the Provence. I can still vividly evoke my terror watching the youngsters clash with the bulls while showing off their bravado.
My allergy for bullfights hasn’t faded, but while I used to be more scared for the men, I now feel more sorry for the bull. While the matador is there by choice, the bull is not. Apart from rare occasions in which it performs exceptionally well, the bull dies every time. It isn’t an equal battle. Before the matador undertakes to kill the bull, the picador pierces him from on top of a horse and the banderillero jams enormous darts into his neck to wear him down. It’s a game that writer Ernest Hemingway and others have compared to a drama, a work of art. I however was happy to have seen the theatre and to have missed the bloody play.
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